Check out this article I found on CNN.com today about Midwifery (babies being born naturally, often at home...)
All I can say is that at least it wasn't bad publicity like normal!
CLICK HERE for the link.
Enjoy!
nW
5.31.2006
Babies & Midwives!
Check out this article I found on CNN.com today about Midwifery (babies being born naturally, often at home...)
All I can say is that at least it wasn't bad publicity like normal!
CLICK HERE for the link.
Enjoy!
nW
5.16.2006
Mayan ruins in Mexico
click on this pix to see the rest of our honeymoon pictures from Playa del Carmen.
...then click on "Honeymoon set" to see 'em all.
Nick & Keri
...then click on "Honeymoon set" to see 'em all.
Nick & Keri
Re[posts]
Here are some reposts from my old blog a few years ago. I liked these, and wanted to save 'em.
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Was moved by the words of My Utmost in yesterdays devotion.
“Arise and Eat”
1 Kings 19:5
The angel did not give Elijah a vision, or explain the Scriptures to him, or do anything remarkable; he told Elijah to do the most ordinary thing, viz., to get up and eat. If we were never depressed we should not be alive; it is the nature of a crystal never to be depressed. A human being is capable of depression, otherwise there would be no capacity for exaltation. There are things that are calculated to depress, things that are of the nature of death; and in taking an estimate of yourself, always take into account the capacity for depression.
When the Spirit of God comes He does not give us visions, He tells us to do the most ordinary things conceivable. Depression is apt to turn us away from the ordinary commonplace things of God’s creation, but whenever God comes, the inspiration is to do the most natural simple things—the things we would never have imagined God was in, and as we do them we find He is there. The inspiration which comes to us in this way is an initiative against depression; we have to do the next thing and do it in the inspiration of God. If we do a thing in order to overcome depression, we deepen the depression; but if the Spirit of God makes us feel intuitively that we must do the thing, and we do it, the depression is gone. Immediately we arise and obey, we enter on a higher plane of life. - -
"This hits me at such a perfect place. As I thought earlier this week, still in Armenia, as I wrote in my journal, that coming home I really felt like I needed to get some control back, some increase in self-will. ‘Arise and eat.’ It really makes me put into perspective how to do that. God will give me the power, the mindset as I obey Him, as I take the initiative. As I reach out my hand to be healed, it will be healed, but I have to take the initiative to hold it out. This is a big question for my own life now. What am I holding out? What initiative am I taking to reclaim my life/time/focus/body? It makes me think about sitting in the kitchen here in the morning, drinking tea or water, eating something, and looking out the window into the sun and the sky, perhaps listening to the Lori Chaffer song, as it goes, “morning can be a time or mourning, or potential hope as the sunlight, warms my window where I lay...” And that is the ultimate question, is the new day a burden or is it a gift from God? Is it to be treated with anticipation and excitement or fear and trembling? Either it is life-giving or it is life-taking. I really want it to be life-giving!"
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Some words from the book, Dangerous Wonder, by Mike Yaconelli ...about having childlike faith, and the abandon of following your heart fully, and not just following the rules that have been so nicely made for us...
Last year, my young son played T-ball...Needless to say, I was delighted when Dylan wanted to play...Now on the other team there was a girl I will call Tracy. Tracy came each week. I know, since my son’s team always played her team. She was not very good. She had coke-bottle glasses and hearing aids on each ear. She ran in a loping, carefree way, with one leg pulling after the other, one arm wind-milling wildly in the air.
Everyone in the bleachers cheered for her, regardless of what team their progeny played for. In all the games I saw, she never hit the ball, not even close. It sat there on the tee waiting to be hit and it never was. Sometimes, after ten of eleven swings, Tracy hit the tee (in T-Ball, the ball sits on a plastic tee, waiting for the batter to hit the ball, which happens once every three batters). The ball would fall off the tee and sit on the ground six inches in front of home plate. “Run! Run!” yelled Tracy’s coach, and Tracy would lope off to first, clutching the bat in both arms, smiling. Someone usually woke up and ran her down with the ball before she reached first.
Everyone applauded.
The last game of the season, Tracy came up, and through some fluke, or simply in a nod towards the law of averages, she creamed the ball. She smoked it right up the middle, through the legs of 17 players. Kids dodged as it went by or looked absentmindedly at it as it rolled unstopped, seemingly gaining speed, hopping over second base, heading into center field. And once it reached there, there was no one to stop it. Have I told you that there are no outfielders in T-ball? There are for three minutes in the beginning of every inning, but then they move into the infield to be closer to the action, or, at least their friends.
Tracy hit the ball and stood at home, delighted. “Run!” yelled her coach. “Run!” All the parents, all of us, we stood and screamed, “Run, Tracy, run, run!” Tracy turned and smiled at us, and then, happy to please, galumphed off to first. The first base coach waved his arms ‘round and ‘round when Tracy stopped at first. “Keep going, Tracy, keep going! Go!” Happy to please, she headed to second. By the time she was halfway to second, seven members of the opposition had reached the ball and were passing it among themselves. It’s a rule in T-ball – everyone on the defending team has to touch every ball.
The ball began to make its long and circuitous route toward home plate, passing from one side of the field to the other. Tracy headed to third. Adults fell out of the bleachers. “Go, Tracy, go!” Tracy reached third and stopped, but the parents were very close to her now and she got the message. Her coach stood at home plate calling her as the ball passed over the first baseman’s head and landed in the fielding team’s empty dugout. “Come on, Tracy! Come on, baby! Get a home run!”
Tracy started for home, and then it happened. During a pandemonium, no one had noticed the twelve-year-old geriatric mutt that had lazily settled itself down in front of the bleachers five feet from the third-base line. As Tracy rounded third, the dog, awakened by the screaming, sat up and wagged its tail at Tracy as she headed down the line. The tongue hung out, mouth pulled back in an unmistakable canine smile, and Tracy stopped, right there. Halfway home, thirty feet from a legitimate home run.
She looked at the dog. Her coach called, “Come on, Tracy! Come on home!” He went to his knees behind the plate, pleading. The crowd cheered, “Go, Tracy, go! Go, Tracy, go!” She looked at all the adults, at her own parents shrieking and catching it all on video. She looked at the dog. The dog wagged its tail. She looked at her coach. She looked at home. She looked at the dog. Everything went to slow motion. She went for the dog! It was a moment of complete, stunned silence. And then, perhaps, not as loud, but deeper, longer, more heartfelt, we all applauded as Tracy fell to her knees to hug the dog.
Two roads diverged on a third-base line. Tracy went for the dog.
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: :::
Was moved by the words of My Utmost in yesterdays devotion.
“Arise and Eat”
1 Kings 19:5
The angel did not give Elijah a vision, or explain the Scriptures to him, or do anything remarkable; he told Elijah to do the most ordinary thing, viz., to get up and eat. If we were never depressed we should not be alive; it is the nature of a crystal never to be depressed. A human being is capable of depression, otherwise there would be no capacity for exaltation. There are things that are calculated to depress, things that are of the nature of death; and in taking an estimate of yourself, always take into account the capacity for depression.
When the Spirit of God comes He does not give us visions, He tells us to do the most ordinary things conceivable. Depression is apt to turn us away from the ordinary commonplace things of God’s creation, but whenever God comes, the inspiration is to do the most natural simple things—the things we would never have imagined God was in, and as we do them we find He is there. The inspiration which comes to us in this way is an initiative against depression; we have to do the next thing and do it in the inspiration of God. If we do a thing in order to overcome depression, we deepen the depression; but if the Spirit of God makes us feel intuitively that we must do the thing, and we do it, the depression is gone. Immediately we arise and obey, we enter on a higher plane of life. - -
"This hits me at such a perfect place. As I thought earlier this week, still in Armenia, as I wrote in my journal, that coming home I really felt like I needed to get some control back, some increase in self-will. ‘Arise and eat.’ It really makes me put into perspective how to do that. God will give me the power, the mindset as I obey Him, as I take the initiative. As I reach out my hand to be healed, it will be healed, but I have to take the initiative to hold it out. This is a big question for my own life now. What am I holding out? What initiative am I taking to reclaim my life/time/focus/body? It makes me think about sitting in the kitchen here in the morning, drinking tea or water, eating something, and looking out the window into the sun and the sky, perhaps listening to the Lori Chaffer song, as it goes, “morning can be a time or mourning, or potential hope as the sunlight, warms my window where I lay...” And that is the ultimate question, is the new day a burden or is it a gift from God? Is it to be treated with anticipation and excitement or fear and trembling? Either it is life-giving or it is life-taking. I really want it to be life-giving!"
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Some words from the book, Dangerous Wonder, by Mike Yaconelli ...about having childlike faith, and the abandon of following your heart fully, and not just following the rules that have been so nicely made for us...
Last year, my young son played T-ball...Needless to say, I was delighted when Dylan wanted to play...Now on the other team there was a girl I will call Tracy. Tracy came each week. I know, since my son’s team always played her team. She was not very good. She had coke-bottle glasses and hearing aids on each ear. She ran in a loping, carefree way, with one leg pulling after the other, one arm wind-milling wildly in the air.
Everyone in the bleachers cheered for her, regardless of what team their progeny played for. In all the games I saw, she never hit the ball, not even close. It sat there on the tee waiting to be hit and it never was. Sometimes, after ten of eleven swings, Tracy hit the tee (in T-Ball, the ball sits on a plastic tee, waiting for the batter to hit the ball, which happens once every three batters). The ball would fall off the tee and sit on the ground six inches in front of home plate. “Run! Run!” yelled Tracy’s coach, and Tracy would lope off to first, clutching the bat in both arms, smiling. Someone usually woke up and ran her down with the ball before she reached first.
Everyone applauded.
The last game of the season, Tracy came up, and through some fluke, or simply in a nod towards the law of averages, she creamed the ball. She smoked it right up the middle, through the legs of 17 players. Kids dodged as it went by or looked absentmindedly at it as it rolled unstopped, seemingly gaining speed, hopping over second base, heading into center field. And once it reached there, there was no one to stop it. Have I told you that there are no outfielders in T-ball? There are for three minutes in the beginning of every inning, but then they move into the infield to be closer to the action, or, at least their friends.
Tracy hit the ball and stood at home, delighted. “Run!” yelled her coach. “Run!” All the parents, all of us, we stood and screamed, “Run, Tracy, run, run!” Tracy turned and smiled at us, and then, happy to please, galumphed off to first. The first base coach waved his arms ‘round and ‘round when Tracy stopped at first. “Keep going, Tracy, keep going! Go!” Happy to please, she headed to second. By the time she was halfway to second, seven members of the opposition had reached the ball and were passing it among themselves. It’s a rule in T-ball – everyone on the defending team has to touch every ball.
The ball began to make its long and circuitous route toward home plate, passing from one side of the field to the other. Tracy headed to third. Adults fell out of the bleachers. “Go, Tracy, go!” Tracy reached third and stopped, but the parents were very close to her now and she got the message. Her coach stood at home plate calling her as the ball passed over the first baseman’s head and landed in the fielding team’s empty dugout. “Come on, Tracy! Come on, baby! Get a home run!”
Tracy started for home, and then it happened. During a pandemonium, no one had noticed the twelve-year-old geriatric mutt that had lazily settled itself down in front of the bleachers five feet from the third-base line. As Tracy rounded third, the dog, awakened by the screaming, sat up and wagged its tail at Tracy as she headed down the line. The tongue hung out, mouth pulled back in an unmistakable canine smile, and Tracy stopped, right there. Halfway home, thirty feet from a legitimate home run.
She looked at the dog. Her coach called, “Come on, Tracy! Come on home!” He went to his knees behind the plate, pleading. The crowd cheered, “Go, Tracy, go! Go, Tracy, go!” She looked at all the adults, at her own parents shrieking and catching it all on video. She looked at the dog. The dog wagged its tail. She looked at her coach. She looked at home. She looked at the dog. Everything went to slow motion. She went for the dog! It was a moment of complete, stunned silence. And then, perhaps, not as loud, but deeper, longer, more heartfelt, we all applauded as Tracy fell to her knees to hug the dog.
Two roads diverged on a third-base line. Tracy went for the dog.
over the cliff
Check out our pix from our honeymoon in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. Just click on this picture, and then find "Honeymoon set." It was perfect!!!!!! I love being married! We can't wait to go back... it was so hard coming home!
Enjoy!
Nick & Keri Weddle
Enjoy!
Nick & Keri Weddle
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